Red And Black (HxQ)
by lauratheghostie
Summary: Dr Quinzel is a happy, reasonably sane individual. She's freshly graduated from medical school, and wants nothing more than to help people, so the best place to do that would be no other place than Arkham Asylum. Which of course, is where she meets the Joker, and he grows attentive to her...
1. Chapter 1

The car came to a halt as I parked it into an empty space. The engine's growling subsided as I removed the keys, and replaced them in the pocket of my lilac blouse. I slammed the door shut after me, locking it, and started on the grim walk to the gates.

They were tall, impressive, decades old black paint peeling off in thin strips, revealing the cold iron they were made of beneath. Atop of them sat iron letters, shaped almost cruelly to read 'ARKHAM'. A smaller gate to the right of them swung open, as a guard beside the gates recognised me.

The path up to the entrance was short, and I couldn't help noticing the large amount of guards stationed outside the building. All holding guns and tasers in plain sight.

Quickly, I adjusted my glasses and smoothed back my hair. I had this whole walk and routine burned into my head. I'd been here two, almost three, months, but from day one I'd known that one wrong look, could get me in bad news with the inmates. And that from then on it'd get worse.

I showed the guards my ID at the sealed metal doors of the entrance, and one nodded and the doors slowly were pulled open. Unlike the gates, above the doors was an engraved sign that read 'Arkham Asylum, Home To The Mentally Insane. Since 1889'.

I expected a little warmth inside the asylum compared to the winds outside, but I got none. I could feel the cold stone floors from through my small black creepers. Goosebumps formed on my arms and I failed in quickly trying to hide them.

Through the wide main corridor that held the more low key patients, and down a flight of stairs was my office. A "cosy" room if you could even call it that. I tossed my bag onto the chair behind the desk and stopped walking when I got to the mirror. God I looked bad. Small tired circles under my eyes choked with concealer, at my attempt to make me look professional. Black liner circling my eyelids, which in turn actually brightened my silver blue eyes. I hid that with my thick black rimmed glasses. My bleached blonde hair looked tatty with dark brunette roots creeping in at several places. I had earlier clamped in back in a bun, letting a few strands drop over my face. My face in particular looked pale and lifeless, and white washed, like all the colour apart from the purple under my eyes, had been drained out.

I sighed and bowed my head, checking my timetable on my computer. It was then that I remembered why I hadn't slept, and the reason for my lethargy. Right in bold letters at the top of my timetable was my most important session yet. With a most peculiarly important patient.

Yes, today, I was finally having my session with the self-proclaimed Joker.

It took begging, after the last doctor to treat the Joker was stabbed by him multiple times and found with a smile carved in his cheeks. The last twenty doctors had either suffered unbearable pains at his hand, or he'd broken their minds, and they'd disappeared and quit while they could.

I like to think I was at least a little different. A small girl from the Gotham suburbs, who had only recently graduated with honours from university. Of course, now that I thought about it, I was gonna get cooked like a fucking egg.

He'd always fascinated me. He'd been around since I started middle school, if I can remember rightly. One could say I almost grew up around him. Great, now I sound like even more of a kid.

I dusted off my plain black skirt, and buttoned, then undone the top button on my shirt. Should I button it? I might come across as too high and mighty and professional to him if I did. I left it undone and unbuttoned the second top too. A little bit of cleavage might work for me today.

I took a sharp breath in and hesitated to breathe out, and grabbed the Joker's file I had held in my bag.

You had to pass two security doors to get to the maximum security wing. I had never needed to pass more than one, and I could feel the nervous sweat gathering on my brow as I handed them my ID, and told them my reason to pass. I saw that one of them was looking me up and down with a grin out of the corner of my eye, and I wasn't sure if the other even believed me. He didn't believe I needed to get through to see the Joker, who I had sessions with. In his eyes I was probably just a harmless little blonde girl. I had a strong urge to give him a hard slap.

"Dr Quinzel!" came a friendly voice from behind me. It was just my luck that it happened to be a tall, slim, dark woman, with the perfect shade of brown eyes, and a soft smile. She wore a dark blue blouse, and a black skirt that stopped just below her knees. Dr Joan Leland.

"Dr Leland, I told you, you can call me Harleen." I laughed, smiling back at her as she approached. "And it's lovely to see you."

"Well then Harleen, call me Joan, no second name basis is needed for friends, right?" she said, calmly. She put an arm around my shoulders and led me to face the door again. "I've got mixed feelings about you still wanting to take on the Joker. I'm proud if he does cooperate, albeit I'm worried because he is a murderous monster, and there's a 999 to 1000 chance that you're going to get serious hurt or killed." She sighed.

The guards finally opened the doors and we passed into medium security. "I know, and well we'll just have to find out if I'm that other 1 in 1000."

She looked at me in concern. "Just... good luck, Harleen."


	2. Chapter 2

It took almost ten minutes to walk across the building. And that was when we passed the Ventriloquist, and came to the door leading out into the Arkham yard. The maximum security wing was cut off from the rest of the low key inmates, and was on the other side of a large yard. Guards lined every corner, and the wire fence around the yard was at least 16 feet tall. The yard was unnervingly quiet as the few inmates standing out there grew silent, and stared at us. The wind almost seemed to fall short, and the whole yard became a desolate silence, apart from the clicking of Joan's heels against the gravel floor.

I could feel my own heartbeat thundering, as we came closer, and closer to the maximum security block. My head started to spin and my legs took me along, like I wasn't ever controlling them. In a short while, I was already in the wing, and feeling the hard stare of tens of extreme inmates.

Some called out, some banged on the bulletproof glass that separated them from the outside corridor. Then Joan put a hand on my shoulder. I stopped walking and turned to face her.

"I have sessions with a Miss Pamela Isley, so I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here. Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked.

I nodded. "Of course. There's a panic button under the table if anything goes wrong, and there will be guards waiting from outside the room at all times. I'll be fine."

"Don't give him anything. Don't tell him anything that'll get you hurt. Don't let him get into your head."

"Yes, yes, you've gone over these rules with me a million times."

"I just want you to stay safe. Other than that... have fun. He likes smiles."

"Thanks, Joan. And I better go before I'm late - I don't wanna make him impatient." I laughed, and we separated ways along the corridor.

I saw there was around five guards waiting outside the Joker's cell, while he was in tight, secure chains, and a Hannibal Lecter style muzzle over his mouth, like he was a dog or a rabid wild beast. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, as I approached, then I remembered this is a man who had the blood of thousands of people on his hands.

As the guards saw me, two of them dragged the clown to his feet. And it was then I saw his full appearance, a tall, bone white skinned man, with electric green hair, now flopping over his eyes. Tattoos poked their head from the gaps in his navy inmate jumpsuit, including a one that ran across his forehead, that read 'damaged'. His arms were strapped into a straightjacket, which looked painfully to say the least. He was as tall, but thinner than the rest of the guards. And though he wasn't as strong looking as the other men, they all still showed their fear of him on their faces.

The guards already knew who I was and my reason for being here, and they dragged the Joker behind me as I led them to the session room. There was yet another threatening silence, until it was followed by low cackles by the clown walking behind.

The session room was rather spacious, yet cold, and there was no natural light in sight. Instead there was a yellow tinged light, covered by a cage, which flickered every couple minutes or so. There was a metal table in the centre, which was bolted to the floor, greeted by two chairs. They thrust the Joker down in one of them, and I took the other, opposite him.

Slowly, they removed his muzzle, and chains from everywhere apart from his ankles. He snapped his teeth at the guard that took off his muzzle, and laughed loudly as the guard drew back back suddenly in fright. After this, the guards left the room, and I was left alone, in a quiet room, with him.

The Joker turned his attention to me, and stopped laughing, and the smile was wiped off his face.

"It's unfair how they chain you up like that," I said to him, choosing to look down at his file then straight into his staring blue-green pools of eyes. "I mean, you're not an animal."

He raised his left eyebrow, as if he was daring me.

"My name's Dr Quinzel, and I'm your doctor for the next six months or so. I'll be having sessions with you three times a week at this time."

He stayed silent, never letting me escape his stare.

"Is there anything you wanna start this session with?" I said, after a full minute of silence.

The Joker kept staring, hardly blinking, and kept his mouth firmly shut. This went on for another five minutes.

"So this is what Joan meant when she said you don't cooperate." I put my head in my hands.

After another minute I glared, finally looking up at him. "What the hell man, do you even talk? You come on TV on urgent news spurting jokes and laughing and giving out your murderous plans, and you can't even talk to a single doctor?"

More silence. "The only reason you'll ever talk to them is if they say something bad, and then you'll tell them how fun it'll be to kill them. And then you do it!"

It continued and I stood up in a rage. "Seriously, man, just say something, do something, I just wanna help you and show the other doctors I'm not just some stupid intern!"

He grinned and rested his head between the backs of his hands. "You're different." he said slowly.

My eyes grew wide and I sat down with a start, grasping white knuckled onto his file to stop him from seeing my shaking hands. "Wh-what?" I stuttered.

His grin grew wider. "I said you're different. Different from all these other dumb shrinks."

He'd just spoken to me, so many things were rushing through my head, I felt he was making me weak with only a few words.

"The other inmates told me about you. You're so sweet and helpful. Ivy thinks you're a bit of competition. Managed to cure a few inmates down in low and medium security. Quinzel isn't it?" A sound which could only be described as a mix of a purr and a growl emerged from between his lips.

I nodded and he laughed.

My heart missed a beat. He was so unnerving.

"I read the information they had on you, kitten. I do on all the doctors when they get sent to me. So I know how to make them crack." He leaned forward, shortening the distance between us. "Prepare yourself, _Quinzel_."

I took a deep breath and glared. "Shut up."

He cackled and leaned in more. "You can't make me shut up, baby. So you shut up."

"Oh really?" I stood up, and my mind was going mad over what the hell I thought I was doing. I went over to where he was sitting, to his right. "Well how the fuck do I shut you up?"

The smile drained from his face. "Keep that tone and I'm gonna show you the meaning of 'not cooperating'."

I immediately went silent; I thought I was gonna faint. I could see all of his silver grilled teeth as he grinned wide.

"Alright." My voice shook even trying to get the word out my lips.

"That's better! I like people went they're quiet. Or with a smile carved onto their faces. Either way."

He licked his bottom lip and I cringed. This horrible, hateful man that could most likely kill me, threatening me. Nevertheless I was caught in his eyes, in his unbreakable gaze.

He laughed a little as he looked into my eyes, and I laughed a little back, albeit faintly.

"You're worried about me killing you, aren't you?"

"Kinda... yeah."

He giggled to himself. "Keep being different and I won't, titch."

"I will, Mr Joker." I replied, coyly.

He smirked as the guards came in and I got up, innocently tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "Oh little Quinzel," he laughed, as they strapped him back into his straightjacket and pulled him to his feet. They struggled to get his muzzle back on as he twisted his head awkwardly from side to side. "Working with me is gonna be hell."


	3. Chapter 3

I sat down at the canteen with a cup of coffee at hand. I rested my head on my hand and sighed. I should have expected how much work would have to go into more complex patients, especially such a case as the Joker; I wasn't treating basic eating disorders, or aggressive bipolars. He was a mass murdering sociopathic hustler, with no intention to change. Even just reading through his file and criminal record gave me a head ache.

Sipping at my coffee, I pushed the hair back that was falling over my face. The canteen was fairly dim, and it was coming up to 7 and I really should been getting home but I couldn't get the energy to do so.

A person sat next to me but I still didn't look up. All I could think about was work and the Joker. I sighed again.

The person drew nearer and I could feel their breath slightly on my cheek. They finally spoke up. "Hey have you been here often?" His voice croaked a little, most likely strained by the day.

I turned to face him. "Hmm, what?" I murmured.

He smiled. "Have you been working at Arkham long, I don't think I've seen you here before."

He was tan, with yellow-green eyes and a sweet smile. His light brown hair flopped down over his nose. The man's face was on the thin side, so his cheekbones kind of jolted out in an odd way.

"H-hi, erm yeah I've only been here a couple months, I got transferred from an internship at Gotham General." I said shyly.

He blushed. And held his hand out, then blushed and took it back. "You shouldn't hold your hand out to a lady," he whispered to himself, before I actually took his hand. I shook it lightly and laughed.

"It's fine, I'm too tired to care anyway." I giggled. "My name's Dr Quinzel."

He pushed back his messy hair. "Uh yeah, I'm Dr Crane. But my first name is Johnathan."

"Johnathan Crane, cooool. Harleen." I smiled softly.

"Harleen Quinzel. Wait aren't you the doctor working on the Joker?" He sat up straight.

I sighed and drank more coffee. "Yeah I am. I had my first session today and I already hate him."

He covered my mouth and his eyes darted around. "SHHH don't say that here, you don't know how many corrupt guards are here, catching the conversation ready to report back to the clown."

I was taken aback but I lowered his hand and nodded. "Sorry, yeah."

"So what's he like?" he murmured, taking his hand back and crossing one leg over the other. "Apologies for being nosy, just the extreme patients fascinate me."

I looked down at the floor. "Quiet, sarcastic, and a real pain in my ass so far," I tilted my head back up at him. "Who are you assigned to?"

"Nigma, the riddler guy. He may be smart but I swear I lose brain cells listening to him." He chuckled.

I laughed a little with him.

He smiled at my laugh. "Why'd you choose to work here? It's kinda a dump."

"I like working with people, and I really wanna cure patients."

He laughed for a short while before he looked at my face and saw I was serious. "Oh... you really want to cure people?"

"Why else would I be here?" I asked, my brow creasing in confusion. That was a half truth. The other reason was that I wanted answers.

He scratched his head. "Erm, I don't know honestly."

"Hey you ever been to that restaurant downtown, Iceberg Lounge? I heard they serve really good seafood." He tried to switch to a different subject.

"Johnathan, why are you working at Arkham then?" I said, quietly.

I heard his breath speed up a bit. "Yeah, its run by this ex-mobster Cobblepot and it's not too expensive."

"Johny."

He looked back at me and held his hands to stop them from fidgeting. "Good opportunity for my _skills."_

His point seemed vague but i didn't want to bother him by asking further.

The clock struck 7 and rain pelted down harder on the windows. It was so quiet that you could hear your own breath, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The room was freezing. Say what you might say about the good reputation of Arkham in the papers and the so called protection over it from Batman, it was exactly how you'd expect a mental hospital to be - cold, sad and dead.

Even more so at night. Like a horror movie.

When I started working at Arkham I wanted to bring a knife in my purse for protection, but of course you had to go through a full search by the door, and the guards would find it. Now I just had to hope that I didn't piss anyone off, and that I never got caught in the middle of an asylum riot.

I yawned wide, trying to hide it with my hand. "Sorry," I apologised, and I looked up at Johnathan again. "I'm really tired. It's been kind of a rough day for me."

"You don't have to apologise, Harleen, I understand. Sometimes we all have days when nothing goes right, especially when the patients don't cooperate." he murmured, giving me a small smile. "How exactly do you get home?"

I finished my coffee, and pushed my hair out of my face. There was something intriguing about watching him talk, he was interesting and friendly, and at least I didn't have to worry about him killing me. "I usually get a bus, which should be coming in fifteen minutes or so." I replied.

His smile grew slightly; he had a sort of boyish charm, innocent and harmless, and it made me blush. "I could walk you to the door if you'd like?" he inquired, scratching his neck, shyly.

I blushed. "I'd like that. Thank you, Johnathan."

We got up, and slowly made our way to the entrance of the asylum. It was dim, and most of the staff had gone home, apart from the guards doing night shifts, so it was quite quiet. The two of us didn't really talk as we came to a stop by the double doors of the building, but we didn't really need to, as it never seemed to get awkward or uncomfortable.

"Thank you," I giggled as we stopped, and he held the door for me. "It was nice to meet you, Johnathan Crane."

He smiled, a sincere, sweet smile, and waved me off. "Likewise, Harleen Quinzel."


	4. Chapter 4

The metal door slammed close behind me. There was a small cold breeze that made me shiver as it did.

Session two.

I saw him chained to a therapy couch, illuminated by the dim light from the window above. His light green hair looked tinged brown in the reddish light; it almost made him look normal.

He stretched out his legs and cracked his toes as he saw me, and rolled over onto his back.

"Good evening, Quinzel."

I tried not to inhale too sharply. I sat down, as the light flickered. "Have you read Silence of the Lambs before?" I murmured, taking out a notepad.

He tilted his head. "Of course."

I smiled, weakly. "You just reminded me of a line of it, that's all."

There was silence.

"Do you read a lot, Mr Joker?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "It's an asylum, the TVs broken, what else am I to do? Why? Do you take me for some uneducated idiot? Some thug in tattoos?"

"Nononono I didn't mean it like that I just was curious. Like i don't know if people expect patients in an asylum to be regular readers- Not that that makes you stupid I mean."

The man laughed. "You're digging a hole."

I blushed hard and took a deep breath. "So do you have a favourite movie?" I asked.

He scoffed. "Come ooooon ask me something more interesting!" He lowered his voice in a purr. "You know you want to."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I wanna know what your favourite movie is."

He rolled onto his side and bit his lip, whilst staring at me. "Go oooooon."

I leaned forward. "You don't know what I want. And I don't want to ask anything that ends up with me in a dumpster."

"Pfft, you're no fun."

I smiled at him. "Not usually, just not around you."

He rolled onto his side. "Your face doesn't look fun. It looks like the fun has been sucked out of you, like a deatheater's got you, or summit. Your mouth looks like one that used to smile, but now cannot. Did something happen to you, little girl? Did someone hurt you? Oh let me guess, your daddy left when you were young and every time you smile you remember him making you smile?" By the end of it he was smirking, like he was happy with unravelling people.

I stayed silent.

"Or did mommy beat you after daddy left? Did she come home drunk with a new man every night and tell you she hates you?"

My mouth tightened to keep in a laugh, they I started to snigger. Then it developed into a full blown laugh.

He stopped smiling. "What's so funny?"

I grinned and looked down at the floor. "You'd make a really crap psychiatrist, Mr Joker. No, I had a nice parents and my dad never left. And we had a cute little puppy too." I laughed some more. "The rest of it is none of your business."

He rolled his blue eyes but I noticed a small smile. "That's actually better. Better to see you're having a laugh; how often do you have a laugh?"

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling and back down. "Less often than Dr Arkham has a bath."

I saw him laugh at that. "You're a strange girl, Dr Quinzel."

"I guess that's me." I covered my cheek, feigning it as pushing my hair back, when actually I was hiding my pink, blushing cheeks. My hand skimmed across something in my pocket and I pulled it out, it happened to be a flask of coffee I'd gotten earlier. I sipped it, although it was only lukewarm, and looked up at my patient. He was looking at the coffee.

I extended it to him. "Do you want some?"

He nodded vigorously and I was taken aback as he reached as far as he could with the chains, and snatched the beverage. He had it in one gulp. He then threw it to the side of the room and closed his eyes for a while, sitting up, cross legged. "I haven't had coffee... in so long. Say, why do you drink so much coffee, Doc?"

"Tiredness, really." I kept my eyes on him.

He opened his eyes and stared at me. The man was silent.

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

He beamed. "You're interesting, darling."

"Well then can I ask you a question, seen as quid pro quo?"

He growled in a quiet, animalistic way, but nodded, reluctantly. I leaned forward with my notepad. "What do you remember about your past? Seriously." I asked; he clucked his tongue.

"Honestly even if I wanted to tell anyone, I couldn't, cos I can't remember for the life of me, or death of me when you think of it."

I nodded along with his words. "You're talking about the acid incident? The one that bleached your skin and made you... this?"

He nodded. "It's glorious, this thing I've become, perfectly insane."

"It is quite marvellous." I added.

"You agree, see. And well it really busted up my whole past memories thing. I can't remember anything before that, not even why I was there." He leaned towards me. "I can imagine how perfect you'd look all bleached and etcetera. Like a little China doll."

I grasped onto my skirt until my knuckles turned white yet tried not to show my heavy heartbeat on my face. "Well you like it, but then I wouldn't be able to remember all these lovely sessions we have!"

He chuckled, okay he took it, he wasn't going to shove me in some acid just yet. I pointed to the club, spade and diamond on his fingers. "You're missing a heart to get a royal flush, would that be because you don't have someone to love?" I inquired.

He raised his brow and wrinkled his mouth as if he hadn't thought of it before. "That seems clever. But I'm not someone who _loves_ things, so I'll just have to deal with an unfinished deck forever."

"Well surely you think of settling down with people? Having children to carry on your legacy? It's animal instinct."

He purred. "Honey, I don't succumb to my animal instincts. I'm a god to you worthless people."

I rolled my eyes. "Never heard of worshippers locking up a god in an asylum before."

He stuck his tongue out. "Shuddup."

The clock chimed and I replaced my notepad under my arm, before the guards came in. "Looks like the sessions over, Mr Joker." I smirked. "Good luck with the 'godly duties'."


	5. Chapter 5

A strong smell of burnt food and almost puke came from the patient canteen. I winced as it hit my nostrils, and couldn't help but cover my nose with the sleeve of my lab coat. It was like someone died in here. Now that I thought about it, someone probably did, with all the weekly shankings.

Nevertheless I stayed by the entrance of the door and peered in.

There were tables scattered around the room, with chairs that were bolted to the tables themselves; very similar to the staff canteen. Yet again, everything was white. It was like the decorator was obsessed with it, geez.

Sat on the central table was a disheveled man, with bright ginger hair, and glasses. He was scowling, and looked over to the people around him like they were being stupid. Of course Edward Nygma. Another figure sat next to him, a dark haired beauty, who unfortunately had half of his face burned off. After an incident with the mob, I heard. Two Face. Next to him was Mr Joker, rolling his tongue from one side of his bright white teeth to the other, who shoved everyone's food near him, off the table.

"Excuse me." A monotone voice came from behind me.

"Hmm?" I said, startled, stepping out of the way.

It was an orderly, with eye bags bigger than my bills. He was leading a woman in chains, who looked at me weirdly as I noticed her. She was mint green skinned, with yellow eyes, and a straight and broad nose. She was around 5 ft 9 and I felt like a child looking up at her. I didn't recognise her to be specific, but I'd seen her on the news somewhere. For some crime, the name left me.

She scowled and turned away, letting the man pull her into the canteen. I felt a hand touch my arm gently, and I turned to see Johnathan. His smile was sweet and caring.

"Oh hey, Johny." I said, jumping a little, as I hadn't been concentrating.

He laughed. "I've just come to keep an eye on Mr Nygma, I didn't realise you'd be down here." he replied.

I crossed my arms and tilted my neck as a cold wind ran down my spine. Of course it was nearly winter, so it would be cold, but when you were in a place like Arkham it almost didn't seem winter cold, just _dead_ cold. Snowflakes didn't melt here, they died.

And the city hall couldn't be fussed with giving Arkham central heating, the frugal shit the mayor was, so it was gonna stay that way.

"Yeah I was just gonna look at how the patients get along, so I can take notes of any symptoms on Mr Joker's anti-social behaviour. I wanna see if he actually gets on with other patients." I added. I turned away from the doorframe and fully towards Johnathan. "Do you know who that new patient is? The green-skinned one?"

He shrugged. "I know a little. She's Poison Ivy, or Pamela Isley. She's only been here a few weeks."

"I've heard Joan mention her before, she must be in charge of her sessions. What's she in for?"

"You're asking the wrong person. Ask Joan if you're really curious."

I nodded lightly, thinking, and turned back to the canteen. Ivy had sat beside Nygma, and was conversing with Mr Joker. His resting smirk was... gorgeous. I shook my head; I was screwed up, there was no way that killer was gorgeous. Albeit, I couldn't help thinking that 'killer' really was.

Johnathan put his hand on my shoulder. "We should go, before he catches you staring at him. That could end bad."

Ivy kept talking to him, and put her hand on his arm, looking up at the door all the while. I felt my heart stop for a second, like the breath in my lungs had escaped me over a look. He looked up too and shone me a bright grin. Now it felt like I was wounded, like the man had bullets for eyes. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

I gasped and quickly turned in Johnathan's direction, the sharp click of my heels as I headed back down the corridor.

I heard his laughter follow me, a haunting giggle that I couldn't escape.

...

"What is Dr Crane to you, Dr Quinzel?" The Joker asked, in the next session.

I had to stop myself from stammering or gasping. "He's a nice guy that would want to have dinner with me sometime."

He was lying on a therapy couch, as before. His ivy green hair was pushed back and looked soft and weightless. Something about him just made me wanna reach out and hold him, but my mind went against my instincts.

"Yeah but you like him, how he likes you?" He rested his head on his hand.

I feigned confusion. "I don't know what you mean - how does he feel about me?" I knew how he felt, he had a thing for me and he was sweet, and a guy only wants to take a girl out to dinner because he likes her, right?

He cleared his threat and crossed one leg over the other. "He's head over heels for you, darling. He even goes on about you to the riddle guy; if that's not pathetic I don't know what is." He let out a blood curling laugh, throwing his head back and slamming his hand off of his leg.

I felt like backing off, running out the door and leaving forever but I didn't. In fact I smirked at him and leaned forward to the end of my seat, placing a hand on my leg. I felt so close to him, so vulnerable. "Well at least he's the one good person around here."

He leaned forward too. "You're saying I'm not good?" He was grinning.

I pouted. "Nahhhh, you're very bad. That's why you're here."

He licked his bottom lip and leaned even further into me, so I felt his breath on my neck. "I get much badder than the murdering shtick."

"Oh? I'm curious. You kill puppies?" I folded my hand over my cheek and rested on it.

He giggled quietly, running his eyes over my face. He was close enough to grab my throat from here, smash my face into the floor, choke me to death. But I was close enough. "I like animals, actually. Nooo, I do stuff that I can't tell a good girl like you."

I burst out laughing, covered my mouth with my hand and feeling my eyes fill up. I was laughing pretty hard. Looking up, I saw he had that kinky sly evil genius smirk on his face. His eyes were so pure and bright, so bright it brought out the pink in his creamy whites.. I really didn't know what came over me, maybe the confusion of the hysterical laughter, but I stood up, and came over to him. He looked up at me, cocking an eyebrow, and smirked.

"What are you doing, little girl?"

As I came to my sense and realised just how close I was to him, I froze, laughed it off nervously and hurried out the door.

"Session over, M-mister." I stammered, before I left.

I knew I saw him sitting there smirking out of the corner of my eye.


	6. Chapter 6

The whole next session was started in silence. Awkward silence.

"I don't know what came over me last session.." I said finally.

He smiled, and I thought I saw a small blush under all that bleached skin. The man wore a look that looked like he was thinking, staring down at the floor. His hair was messier than it had been before, like he forgot to do anything with it. It was cute, to be frank.

I'd picked out a different overall outfit today, I wore a long sleeved, burgundy dress that stopped midway down my thigh. My bleach blonde hair was let down, and ran down my back, and I left my glasses off.

"I could go telling all the patients I nearly touched the cute girl in the hospital." He laughed more.

"Don't do that. Or you won't see me again. And I'm not here to please you, I'm here to cure you."

"Well I'm not in a good mood today, wanna see me angry?"

I fell silent, my eyes fixed on his hands.

"Do you wanna play a game, Dr Quinzel?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes burning like blue fires.

I was reluctant. "Go ahead."

"You tell me little things and I'll tell you little things. I won't get mad as long as you do that."

I inhaled deeply, and nodded. "Alright, what's your favourite colour?"

" _Blood_ red." He laughed quietly, but manically.

"Why are you in a bad mood?" I asked further.

"Ah, ah, ahhh. My turn now. You live near your parents?" He grinned, pushing me.

"Technically yes, literally no." He must have seen the emotion drain from my face, because he smiled, like today he feasted on it.

"So what did you do this week?"

The snow was falling gently down outside, landing on every crevice and window ledge, and sliding down the windows. I knew it wasn't just this particular room that was freezing. I also knew that complaining wouldn't get me anywhere, but I still did it. I acted like nothing he'd said had hurt me.

"Talked to Ivy and Nygma. The broad's weird."

"How so?" I inquired. Finally something interesting.

"All she talks about is plants. And she keeps trying to flirt with Two Face, but he can't stand her. Personal issues or something."

"Plants?"

"Yeah, she thinks she's 'the mother of all plants'. Mother Nature to be precise. When she first got dragged in here she was screaming "I HAVE TO SAVE THEM, MY CHILDREN" it was weird. She's weird, but hey what can I say about it, I'm a fucking clown who goes on heists and fights a giant bat man."

"Amen." I laughed, pushing my hair back.

He thought then turned to me. "Would you say you're fairly religious, Doc?" He asked, preening. I still remembered what Joan told me, but it didn't seem like it matter anymore. The heck would he do with things like my pets when I was little or my religious beliefs?

"Not, really."

"Interestinggg." He folded his hands.

I smiled, shyly. I turned the conversation back to him. "So, I'm going to bring up something you might take offence to, is that okay, Mr Joker?"

"Go right away. The other doctors do it anyway, what harm could you do." His eyes were cat like, as they stayed fixed on me.

"What would you call your relationship with Batman?"

I saw him wince, his face flinch to the side and growl. He banged a fist down on the chair. After a while he spoke up. "Welllllll, he's my opposite. The ying to my yang. The same to my crazy." He leaned over to me. "But let me tell you something, doll, he's nowhere near sane."

"I picked that up, with the whole Halloween costume getup."

He laughed and managed to reach over to pat my knee. "That's my girl."

I blushed heavily and tried to act like I didn't hear him. "One might think that you had a sexual relationship with the crime fighter. Two men who can't live without each other, and most nights physically beating each other down. I've never heard of something more romantic." I smiled down at myself.

He growled. "Don't speak Freud at me baby. I don't _love_ him."

"Is it the bat nipples?" I cried out laughing, before I felt a hand around my throat. I gasped and immediately fell silent. His chains were looser today, and I'd stupidly shuffled my chair closer.

"That shut you up, didn't it?" He purred, standing and getting in my face; his grip got harder, and he licked his bottom lip. "I'd warn you not to taunt me or tease me, cos it makes daddy very angry. And silly little girls shouldn't make daddy angry."

He was mocking me but I didn't care. I was staring up at him, aware I was choking, and I was most likely bright pink. His electric green eyes were so close to mine, and he showed off his pearly teeth. He studied my face but saw I showed no fear, and purred literally centimetres from my face. The man breathed me in and towered over me on the chair, reaching a hand out to run it across my face. After some time had passed, of him staring onto my face, and caressing my jawline, he giggled, and bit my lip. It was so hard I winced, but I stayed perfectly still.

"You're even cuter up close." he whispered, releasing my lip. I tasted blood.

He suddenly growled, whipping his head back and hitting his forehead with his palm. Blood trickled down my chin. He struck back around and yelled in my face, kicking the chair to the ground. I fell backwards and yelped, as he stood above me and stared down, grinning. "Stop making me feel things, little girl."

I jumped up immediately, pushing him back and gathering my things, before rushing out the door. I quickly walked past the guards, signalling them to go in. Wiping my bloody lip, and a few tears from my left eye, I strode down the corridor until I turned a corner.

I was suddenly slammed against the wall. There was a face pressed up against mine, ashy green, and delicate features. Ivy's brow was fixed in a negative way and she was gripping tightly onto my dress. I tried not to show much shock, but actually I was very taken aback. She was grinding her teeth and seemed to have ran away from the guards holding her.

"Bitch, you." she growled at me. "You're competition to me, understand?"

I controlled my breathing to a slow, subdued pace. "Slow down, Ivy, what's the matter?" I murmured back.

She towered slightly over me. "Shut up, I've seen how some of the men look at you. They should be looking at me. So you're competition."

She hated me because men looked at me and saw me attractive? "Listen, I don't want violence, and I don't think you do deep down, either. You're just angry."

"Don't tell me what I am or what I want, scum."

I was offended, so I scowled and grabbed her wrists. "Okay, Ivy, listen pretty fucking clear, don't call me scum, it's a damn privilege you're here, and not in Blackgate, as some jacked up chick's bitch, alright? But you better pipe the hell down, cos you quickly learn no one cares if you're different. You hear me? Pipe. The. Fuck. Down." I grabbed her wrists hard and pushed her off me. She was staggered and stared back at me, jaw agape.

"J's right. You are lovely."

I fell silent and sighed, letting the guards coming around the corner catch her. "Shut up."


	7. Chapter 7

I kept up by writing notes on my notepad. The Joker did nothing but stare at the man next to me. Dr Arkham.

Since it had been several sessions, it was mandatory when it came to extreme patients, for the head doctor, in this case Dr Arkham, to have an inspection session with the doctor. Then he would see whether me treating him was a waste, and if it wasn't I'd be able to continue my sessions in peace. If not, well then what happened would be out of my control.

We were back at the metal tables and clod metal chairs, opposed to the spread out therapy couches.

Snow was falling heavier this week; it was closer to Christmas. And yet again it was freezing. Outside was completely white, and hardly any of the patients dared to go outside to the exercise yard whilst it was so icy and snowy. Mr Joker just stayed in his cell and talked to himself.

Today he'd slicked back his hair, and the equivalent to making yourself look your best for someone, and that somebody was Dr Arkham. Red, lipstick? Was spread at the edge of his lips in a smile, and he tried extra hard to look tall. God, was it interesting. Like two male wild cats puffing themselves out to look bigger and look more impressive to the female.

I watched the aggressive eye contact between them both, and I could have smirked. Joker was looking Dr Arkham up and down, glaring and gesturing as if he was daring the other to make a move. Arkham was smiling, as if daring the other to try anything, because it would get him put in solitary.

"Why is he here?" Joker finally said, breaking the silence.

"I'm here to view over your session, to check everything's in order. Just pretend I'm not here." Arkham replied. The other man turned to him in disgust, and blared his grill.

"Did I ask you, shit face?" The patient spat back, staring back with no positive emotions or thoughts at all.

"Careful with what you say there, mouthy." Arkham laughed back. He was smug, as if he thought the other man couldn't touch him.

I sighed. "Stop it you two." Joker huffed like a small child, and crossed his arms, tucking his legs up to his face. They both had their faces tilted slightly away, yet still looked snidely over at each other.

Dr Arkham gestured an arm. "Just think of it as an ordinary session and go ahead."

I nodded, and looked down at my clipboard. There were specific questions I had to ask him, and they were on there, though I was nervous to start, because any one of them could set him off.

"Mr Joker, how would you describe your childhood?" I repeated to him.

He grinned. "Typical. Well quite welcoming, my mother was anyway, my father worked a lot and was hardly ever in. My mom cried a lot, drank too. Brother beat me when I was young, my sister humiliated me. The only happy memory I have, was when my dad took me to the circus when I was ten-"

"Stop playing with me, J." I sighed, crossing out the notes I had written down.

He put his hands up in defeat. "You got me," he said, then leaned across the desk trying to look at the clipboard. "Now what."

Arkham glared at the patient. "Sit down before I get the guards in here."

Joker glared back at him, like a teenager and slumped back into his chair.

I paused. "Mr Joker, what kind of imagery were you exposed to as a child? Violent? Sexual?"

He paused second. "Violent? Nothing wrong with a few cowboy movies to lift a boys spirit. Sexual? Gah I hope not!"

I tilted my head towards the floor. "Please stop joking around." I groaned.

He smirked. "You're telling the wrong guy, I'm the _Joker_. It's my gag."

"I'm boutta gag you and slap you stupid if you don't act serious for a moment." I snapped, to this he lifted an eyebrow.

He must have wanted to push me further, as he said: "Dr Quinzel, I have to say you're looking quite a babe today. Just had to get it out there."

My cheeks puffed up, as I had my mouth firmly shut, and I was trying to keep in the shit I could have yelled. Yet those same cheeks blushed red. "Shut up." I murmured, like a defeated child.

I was at the same time breathless, my heart pounding a million times an hour. I felt cute and sweet and pretty, in my oversized dusty pink sweater I'd only put on because I was cold. I knew I looked a mess but he made me feel like a pretty mess.

"As a child or teen were you pressured to do things such as drugs or drink?" I inquired.

"Not pressured really. I chose to smoke and drink when I was young, though I couldn't afford to keep buying smokes after I moved out of my parents house."

"And who got you these cigarettes and drinks?" I wrote down his words quickly, smiling that I was actually getting somewhere.

"My father had it lying around." He crossed his legs on the chair. I still couldn't believe that he was giving out little things about his past, like it was nothing. No other doctor had got this far, I was special.

I felt the colour drain from my face as I saw the next question. "Did you have the urge to take advance of someone in your childhood or adolescence, violently or sexually?" My voice shook at the last word.

I could tell he was uncomfortable too. "Never. I wasn't that kind of kid, man. I was a good kid." He said this in a flat, monotone voice.

"Have you ever had the urge to take advantage of someone, sexually?" I continued.

He froze. "No."

"Good, very good." I replied, quietly, as I read through the questions. Many of them were sexual, ones I was quite uncomfortable with, and I'm sure he was too.

"Dr Arkham, I'm not sure I can read these, they're all very sexual." I mumbled, showing dismay on my face.

He took the clipboard from me, and I saw the small roll of his eyes. He thought I was silly, a child who 'couldn't deal with sexual things'. Nah, actually I was just trying not to get killed. I smiled, successfully.

"Joker, were you yourself taken advantage of, violently or sexually?" Arkham spewed out, savouring the look in the patients face. Oh god I would be happy to see this rat get beat into a pulp.

The patient stared back, coldly. His eyes were fixed on him, like a predator with his prey. His knuckles were white, clenching onto the iron chains, and his brow was firmly furrowed.

"Were you a promiscuous person before the accident?" Arkham said further, smirking at him. He knew he was playing with the Joker's feelings, winding him up. "Were you a _player_?" He drew the last word out, like a mockery.

As the patient ground his teeth, Arkham laughed and put his thin, bony hand on my thigh. My brain fell into a panic, but I didn't dare move. "Oh what am I kidding, you couldn't get a pretty woman like Harleen here even if you tried."

I felt like I was going to faint, so I closed my eyes, and wished for everything to all go away. There was a yell as the Joker swiftly slipped off his chains and leaped onto the head doctor. The hand was lifted from my leg; I could breathe again. Once I opened my eyes, I turned my head to see the patient beating the other man's face into the floor, beating his nose in, and crippling his arm as he stood on it. I swallowed my fear as I rushed over, though my legs gave under me as soon as I stood up. I staggered back to my feet and pulled the patient off him. It was tough, and he had a tough grip on him, like an animal.

It was then that I pulled the Joker to his feet and realised just how large he was. He actually had quite strong arms, with muscles that stuck out, and had probably punched their fair share of people in their lives. He was at least six foot two, which I hadn't quite realised until I stood next to him now. I knew he was tall, but not that tall. I felt pint-sized next to him. His skin was also a pale shade of cream, unlike the pure white that I'd thought before.

Not even thinking about how much danger I was putting myself in at that moment, I looked up at the patient and smiled, before bending down to help Dr Arkham off of the floor. He was badly hurt, and though I hated him, he was the one that dished out my salary, and he needed help. I stood up with the injured man's arm around my shoulders. He was unconscious, probably from the shock of getting his face beaten in.

The Joker's face as I stood up was speechless, his jaw agape and eyes emotionless. He didn't know how to feel, but I was so calm. I stood less than a few feet from him. "Beating the cunt in won't solve anything, Mr Joker." I mumbled, before I left.

I motioned for the guards to go in, as they saw what had happened to Dr Arkham. They were going to beat J's ass in now, I suspected. Another guard took Arkham out of my hands as I struggled to carry him.

I walked along the corridor and thought. Why had Arkham acted so stupidly? He knew this man was a killer, and wouldn't hesitate to maim? The Joker had a short temper, and if it didn't sound cruel to say, Arkham seemed to have had it coming to him. No.

I exhaled deeply, pausing, and dropped my face into my hands in despair. Now that I thought more into what had happened, this was exactly what Arkham would have wanted to happen. If something went wrong in the session then he could decide what he wanted to do with the patient. To take me away from him, get him on medication, fire me, do tests on him. Anything. He wanted to wind the patient up so he deal things on the patient that I had no control over stopping.

I'm sure if the man wasn't unconscious, he'd be pretty smug right now. The little rat.


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you ready to order?"

The words broke me out of my concentration. I shook my head. The restaurant was bustling, crimson wallpaper, lined with gold lights and chandeliers, and dark wooden tables scattered across the room. The atmosphere was full, albeit classy, a scent of wealth around the room.

Across from me sat Johnathan, in a smart black and grey suit. His brunette hair was pushed back, which wasn't flattering for his face, but he ignored it with a shy smile.

I, on the other hand, was wearing a sleek silver dress that reached my knees, and small white heels. My hair was half up, away from my face, framing it.

Yes, I had let Johnathan take me out on a date. I'd thought, well life is short, I'm single, why don't I just try to find nice guys out there, to make up for all the horrible guys I'd dated over the years? He'd had like a mini heart attack when I said yes, and it was cute, honestly.

I needed more cuteness in my life, after weeks of stressing over my patient. Of course he'd find out about my date and get mad, but I could probably take it.

And now we were here, in Giannio's, a suave little Italian restaurant in the Burnley district.

"Erm, yes I'd like the platter please." Johnathan told the waiter, smiling nervously. I could tell that he had social issues, and he was trying to put on a brace face for me, but in fact, ordering or talking to anyone he didn't know was extremely uncomfortable for him.

"Can I have the strangozzi, please." I murmured.

The waiter left and I sighed. Out of the corner of my ear I heard my dear patients laughter, but i turned to see he wasn't there. My heart was racing, though I turned back to Johny and smiled like nothing was wrong.

"So, how's you're work going, Harley?" Johnathan asked.

I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. "I thought we were here so we could escape work and all that's happening."

He stretched the back of his head. "Oh right, yeah." We grew silent. "Do you like to read?"

I smiled weakly and nodded. "I have since I was a little girl, it was a good way to forget my worries and jump into someone else's story."

"I would have said the same thing, I love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's work."

"I prefer Edgar Allen Poe." I giggled.

"The queenliest dead that ever died so young." he replied, smiling kindly and making the shape of a bird with his hands.

"Lenore, I love that." I smiled back.

I knew he was sweet, and we both had books in common, but I didn't feel a connection. He was more like a friend than a lover to me. All through the night, I was only half there, and I kept imagining what it would be like if the Joker was there instead.

I thought so much that it became clear. He was sitting there, across the table, in a dark purple, luscious velvet suit. His damaged tattoo was hidden by his thick green hair, that was beginning to slightly curl.

He had a cane, that he rested against the table leg, and a long purple coat that he hung on the back of the chair.

The man had a large smirk on his face as he looked me up and down. "Well aren't you just the prettiest thing tonight, kitten?"

I tried to hide my blush. "How are you here?"

He raised his eyebrow. "This is your head, toots, I don't know how I got here, you're just really screwed up in the brain."

I pouted and furrowed my brow. "I'm not screwed up." I grumbled.

He leaned across the table. "You gotta be at least a bit to imagine a man like me being on a date with you. Why one would think you have a thing for me." he purred, baring his lashes.

I denied it every night. Whenever he popped into my head I had to say: 'I do not have any remorse or feelings for this cold blooded man.'

I was so different as to when I'd started treating him, maybe it was due to him changing and letting me in too. I wasn't scared to get near him, or smile at him, or talk to him.

It could be possible that I had feelings for him. But no way would I ever admit it. Even now I denied that it was even a single bit true. Oh but it was. I was all over him, all over in love with him.

And it was the most self hating feeling I'd ever had. I was a disgrace for letting myself become this close with him, to have meagre feelings towards this man.

I somehow _loved_ the Joker.

"I don't, I know I don't." I muttered.

 _Liar_.

He stood up and came over to my side of the table, shoving me off of my seat. I hit the floor with a thump and rolled over, whining. Immediately he was on top of me, pinning me on the floor.

"Well I'll just have to prove it to you then." he purred back, taking my head in his hands and kissing me.

"Harleen?"

I shook my head and I was back. Back to my boring old date with Johnathan.

"Are you okay? You zoned out for a few minutes." he asked in concern.

I smiled, a small smile at best. "I'm just worried that's all."

"You can let it out here, if you really want, Harleen." His face was wrinkled with worry. I froze and my heart beat faster. Honestly I was worried about discovering I may have feelings for a homicidal yet charming maniac, but I felt like that would be inappropriate at a date.

I chuckled to myself at that one.

I cleared my throat and stared down at my feet. "Nothing much, I'm just worried about Mr Joker that's all, I think he might be put in solitary confinement for the next few weeks." That was half true, it would be a massive probably if Dr Arkham decided to stop my sessions until he was out of solitary or even stop them all together. I had already missed a weeks worth of sessions so far, and the patient was stopped from seeing any doctors. If it was stopped for longer I'd just be left with nothing to do, and a crush on a clown. And besides, he'd be so cold and lonely in there.

Johny was taken aback, it was obviously new for him to find a doctor in the dump that is Arkham that actually cares about the patients, and not about the money. "Oh, right. What's he being put in solitary for?" he replied.

The food arrived and we both ate in silence. "He beat Dr Arkham to a pulp." I answered as I finished.

Johny almost gagged. "Oh my lord... is Dr Arkham alright?"

My heart sunk, as I realised everyone would care more about that rat's wellbeing, more than my patient, and what set him off. They all thought he was spontaneous so he didn't need anything to set him off, he just liked to harm people.

"A broken nose and he was knocked unconscious, but I haven't heard from him since the incident."

"Oh gosh, I hope he's okay." he murmured.

I sighed. "Yeah." To be frank, I didn't wish Arkham dead, I just thought he got what was coming to him. I'm sure he would be better soon, and I could get my sessions back.

The rest of the night was spent in cold silence, and I sat and thought, and worried, and fretted. Of course the bill came and he insisted to pay. I got up to leave after that.

"Harleen I'll drive you home, if you want." Johnathan said, as I went for the door. I dared not look at him, so I shook my head and walked down the streets; I only lived a few blocks away anyway.

After walking so far, I started regretting walking home on my own. It was getting dark, and Gotham was a dangerous place, especially for vulnerable people on their own. I gripped the army knife in my purse. Though I wasn't allowed to take it in to Arkham, I still kept it in my purse whenever I went out.

I turned a corner, hearing steps behind me, and I tried to keep my breathing under control. The street was empty. Silent. Everyone was probably already in their homes, safe and sound. The steps got closer. I felt like running for my life but I didn't want to freak myself out, it could just be another civilian trying to get home, after all. All of a sudden, the person that was following me grabbed me from behind, and dragged me into an alley.

I couldn't scream, as they had their hand pressed firmly over my mouth, so instead, I pulled out the army knife, and thrust it blindly behind me until it hit flesh. He cried out, and I pulled away from him, whipping around to see a man in a clown mask, with a knife embedded in abdomen. It most likely could have hit a kidney, which I hope it did.

He sunk down the wall in pain, and I pushed the mask away from his face. He was still conscious somehow, and I was determined to get answers.

"It's not nice to grab women in the middle of the night when they're trying to get home you know. And now you've been stabbed. Boo hoo." I told him, grinning. I don't know why I was so happy that I'd stabbed someone, but I guess in my eyes I'd stabbed someone that tried to hurt me. That's basically justice, right?

He groaned and glared at me, saying nothing more. I looked at his mask.

"What's up with the clown mask, you work for the Joker?" I inquired, pouting at him.

He glared more, grasping his wound. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Now get lost before I beat you." he growled.

I sighed. "You really think you're in the position for that?" I grabbed the handle of the knife, and twisted it sharply.

He cried out once again. "Yes I do, I do!" he blurted out.

I beamed. "Good, so you make sure to break him out as soon as possible." I patted his face.

He was breathing heavily. "Who are you to say?"

I gave him daggers, and quickly pulled out the knife, and replace it in my purse, hearing him crush his teeth together. "His doctor."

And with that I left the alley, and continued on my way home.


End file.
